Winterizing in Tucson?
We have never winterized our Airstream Safari. We took delivery in October 2005 and from there on we made a point of keeping it out of winter weather. Sure, there were chilly nights below freezing on many occasions (usually at high altitude in places like Yosemite) but with the furnace or the catalytic heater running the trailer would never get anywhere near the freezing point.
Years before, when we lived in Vermont, “winterization day” was an unhappy day for me because it meant the end of the camping season. Winterization is the process of preparing the trailer for months of freezing, by removing all the water and replacing it with pink RV anti-freeze. Once you’ve done that, you’ve admitted that there’s no chance of going camping again for months. For me, up in Vermont, it meant the start of a long season of staring out the window at my poor Airstream, frozen over with snow and ice like a sad aluminum popsicle.
Once we bought a house in Tucson, I knew we were home free. Never again would I face the end of the season, because it doesn’t freeze here — much. I have not winterized a trailer in six years. Even on those occasion winter nights when the skies are clear and the wind is high, and the temperatures dip below freezing for a few hours, the Airstreams don’t get cold enough to require winterization.
And so you can imagine my consternation this week as Tucson, deep in the Sonoran Desert, is facing deep freezes three nights in a row this week. Not the mild sort of freeze we toy with for fun, just to be able to say, “Hey, it’s cold here too,” to our northern relatives, but a real frigid, put-on-the-long-johns kind of bitter cold that lasts all day and all night.
I know you folks up north and east aren’t too sympathetic, given that you’ve been getting pounded by snowstorms and all that stuff, but really, we can’t take it. Our house is a barely insulated stack of adobe blocks with drafty single pane windows. The cactus will die, the citrus will wilt, and worst of all our Airstreams aren’t winterized.
This horrible thought struck me this evening as we were heading for yet another cold night, this time all the way down to 20 degrees. No longer could I scoff at a light freeze — this is cold enough to turn the water pipes in our Airstreams into solid blocks of ice, splitting them open and causing all kinds of other damage. Just a little ice in the electric water pump is enough to wreck it. So this evening I grabbed an electric heater from the house and stuck it in the Airstream Safari that sits in our carport. Running all night, that 1500-watt unit should be enough to keep the interior of the trailer safely warm.
The Caravel, however, is away from home in a locked indoor storage facility. I debated whether to go over and give it a heater too, but eventually decided that the storage unit probably wouldn’t freeze … until about 11 p.m., at which point I couldn’t sleep for wondering if I could be wrong about the storage unit. Finally I got dressed and drove over to the storage facility with another heater, just to be on the safe side.
As it turned out, the interior of the Caravel was a balmy 43 degrees, but I was still glad I had gone over to give it a heater too. Tomorrow night we are expecting 18 degrees — another record low — and I think by then the storage unit will have chilled down quite a bit.
Well, at least it’s no worse than that. In a few days this strange weather episode will be part of meteorological history and I can go back to pretending that it never freezes here. I won’t have to buy RV anti-freeze and my record of never having winterized the Safari will remain intact. I guess there’s no place in the USA completely safe from freezes except Hawaii (and ironically there are no campgrounds there), but at least our frigid season is limited to just three days.